Soldier Boy Poem by kharon march

His life was marginal when compared to the whole, many men make up an army and he was just there to play his role.
His mother would place a candle in the window to grace the night, it would caress the darkness with its alluring light. She did so everyday praying to god that some how it would summon her baby from the fray. But he never came and deep down she knew this routine was a method used to blunt the pain. He lay cold and dead with crimson blood seeping from his head... Forgotten left among-st turmoil and ashes until made rotten. He now is just a casualty of war left to the enemy's ever increasing score. She continued her ritual until the day she died, knowing in the end that her baby tried.